


when you said her name

by adashofhope



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 03:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18956893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adashofhope/pseuds/adashofhope
Summary: a collab fic based on a 3 sentence fic @persesphone wrote on tumblr about petermj making out and peter accidentally moaning gwen’s name.





	when you said her name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [renaissancepalette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/renaissancepalette/gifts).



> my collaborators:
> 
> raysofspidey on ao3/spideysunwin on twt
> 
> spideyxboy on tumblr/spiderlingdaya on twt
> 
> write-numinous on tumblr/voldemost on twt
> 
> and you can find me on twt @floofyparker

MJ lets the tears roll down her cheeks as she retreats to her room. She doesn’t sleep that night. She tries to distract herself by thinking of the assignment she has due tomorrow, or the presentation that she really hopes she doesn’t screw up next Tuesday, but somehow, her mind drifts back to Peter.

And it confirms every single doubt she’s ever had about herself. Every bad thought about herself that would appear in her mind when Peter and Gwen used to date has resurfaced. And she thinks, that she was so fucking _naive_ to believe that Peter would ever think she was enough for him.

Her shoulders shake and she muffles her sobs with her pillow, wrapping the covers tighter around her shoulders. She squeezes her eyes shut and rubs her forehead.

Everything hurts.

It’s around 4 am when she feels herself drifting off slowly, when she thinks she’s run out of tears.

Her alarm goes off at 8 am because she’s supposed to be meeting her partner to work on the assignment in an hour. She drags herself out of bed, and tries to make herself look like she hadn’t cried herself to sleep last night.

It doesn’t work.

It doesn’t work, because when she walks past the couch to get her textbooks that are lying on the kitchen table, Peter sits up and stares at her with a frown.

She pointedly avoids looking at him.

“MJ, are you ok? Did something happen? You don’t look so good.”

“I stayed up late last night to work on a project and I think I might’ve caught a cold,” she lies, still making an effort to only look at her textbooks.

Peter looks like he wants to say something, but he nods and sits up.

She swipes some concealer under her eye and lets him know that she will be gone for the whole day, even though she’ll be back in time for lunch.

He nods, and tries not to flinch when she closes the door with a bang.

Peter makes himself at home. He takes a shower, and helps himself to some cereal.

It happens when he’s alone, chewing on his cereal at the kitchen counter. When he’s trying to recall the events of the night before, because he’s never been that drunk before. And it all comes rushing to him.

And he remembers the relief on her face when he had told her that he liked her. But he remembers seeing the hurt flash in her eyes when he said Gwen’s name. He remembers when she pushed him away harshly, her eyes getting glossier. He remembers hearing muffled sobs coming from her room, but being too exhausted to decipher what was happening.

And then, he thinks back to the puffy, bloodshot eyes this morning.

And he groans.

So, he calls Ned. But Ned refuses to entertain his bullshit.

“Peter, she’s liked you since high school. You’ve never paid attention to her and you’ve broken her heart over and over again with every time you ignored her in favor of some other girl. Can you imagine what it must’ve felt like to her, to hear Gwen’s name, of all names right after you tell her something that she’s been wanting to hear from you ever since she was 16?”

Peter sighs, “I’m a dick.”

“You are. You better fix this.”

“I will.”

\---

Michelle receives thirteen texts and fifteen missed calls from Peter all throughout the day, but she ignores them all. In fact, she doesn’t even bother looking at them.

“Michelle? Are you okay?” Her partner interrupts her thoughts. “If you want, we can just email each other the essay? You don’t look so good.”

“No! I’m fine, we can finish this.”

It takes about an hour and a half for them to finish the assignment, and Michelle does just about everything to keep herself distracted from the horrible thoughts swirling around her mind, all coming from her deepest, darkest insecurities.

To keep herself busy, she goes to the library, the bookstore, the bookstore coffee shop, and even sits through a shitty indie film until it’s late at night and she decides to catch the last train home.

On the train, she thinks about the mess she’s gotten herself into. She can’t help but snort at how she makes herself out to be some badass woman when something as minor as a boy has the power to shatter her self-esteem with a single word. She feels like such a fool. She had thought that months after Gwen’s death, Peter found comfort in her. There were even nights when they’d cuddle in bed and talk about how they could make the world a better place; with Peter being Spider-Man and MJ being an investigative journalist that uncovered corruption and injustices.

And then, they’d wake up the next day without acknowledging the fact that they shared a moment just hours ago. She should’ve known right away that she was just a damn rebound. She should’ve known nothing was ever going to happen.

At the station, she feels her phone vibrate inside the pocket of her leather jacket and rolls her eyes, knowing exactly who it is.

By the time she gets home, he’s waiting for her in the living room, with a stupid bouquet in his hand and an apologetic look on his face.

Shit.

He remembers.

“MJ—“

“Stop, Peter. I don’t want to hear it,” she walks past him to go to her room, but she feels his hand grip her arm to keep her from leaving again. His touch alone makes hot tears well up in her eyes.

Damn him.

“I’m sorry, MJ. Just let me explai—“

“No,” Michelle cuts him off. She sucks in a deep breath, “No, you don’t need to explain shit to me. You already did that last night.”

Peter scrunches his eyes shut and sighs, facing the carpet. She thinks he’s about to speak so she beats him to it, “You don’t have to apologise, Peter. I shouldn’t have let you kiss me while you were drunk... and I regret it too.”

“Y-you do?”

“I mean, who am I kidding? Suddenly, you decide you like me as more than a friend after I pined after you for six years?”

“Please, MJ—“

“Let me finish,” she snaps, which seems to shut him up immediately. “It’s funny because, I used to think that you didn’t want to deliberately hurt me. I used to think it was because I didn’t...look like the girls you dated, or that you only saw me as a friend. But when we started doing this— whatever the fuck _this_ is, I thought that maybe you just weren’t ready to tell me how you felt.”

“Listen—“

“I’m done dancing around with my feelings and giving myself some sort of false sense of hope that someday, you’d love me back. I thought it was real, Peter. I thought it was finally me.”

“But—“

“But, you said her name.”

“Michelle,” she hears his voice crack, and even without looking at his eyes, she knows he’s on the verge of crying.

“I think you should leave, Peter,” she says quietly, gently removing her arm from his grip.

“Don’t do this.”

There’s a beat where he looks at her and she looks at him and she’s ready to take it all back. She’s ready to run back into his arms, even if it means she’s going to get hurt repeatedly. Even, if it means, she’ll never be his number one. But Michelle Jones was more sense than sensibility.

“Goodbye, Peter.”

\---

And Peter leaves her apartment reluctantly, with his heart in her hands.

They don’t talk to each other for a solid month after that. And god, it hurts so much. It hurts to not be able to turn to his side and see MJ fast asleep as he’s watching Star Wars. It hurts when he says something especially dorky and he waits for the teasing to ensue, but it never comes.

And then one day, he’s at her building because he’d just stopped a mugging at the alley beside her apartment and he decided to change into his regular clothes and leave through the main entrance. He was making a conscious effort to be more...discreet, after all.

He jogs down the stairs, only to bump into her. She’s in a little red dress that hugs her in all the right places and her hair is down and she’s wearing a little makeup, but not too much and that red lipstick that she loves so much.

His breath catches in his throat, and he swears he sees her gulp. He moves his mouth, tries to say something, “MJ-“

But he’s cut off by a masculine cough, coming from behind her. Finally, he lets his gaze travel to her left and he sees Harry fucking Osborn next to her. Then, he realises that they’re arms are linked together and oh, she’s on a date.

All he does is watch, as they walk past him. His mouth is hung open ever-so-slightly from disbelief, and his heart sinks all the way to his stomach. His chest feels like it weighs way more than the rest of his body and he slumps down the staircase.

And it hits him that this hurts way more than Gwen. That watching her slip away from him hurts so much. That night is the first time it occurs to him that maybe, just maybe, he may love MJ more than Gwen.

When he had first fallen in love with Gwen, he had really thought she was the one. But, she was never really a huge fan of Peter’s alter ego and most of their fights consisted of her telling him to stop being Spider-Man. Still, Peter followed her around and stuck by her side like a lost puppy, telling himself that she had to be the one and there was no one that he’d ever love more than Gwen.

And then MJ came along.

Holding him so tight that it kind of felt like she was picking up all of his broken pieces and sticking them together when Gwen died.

And he’d gone and screwed it up.

That night, MJ calls him.

He fumbles with his phone, nearly dropping it on the floor and hurriedly answers it. The voices on the end of the phone are muffled, and it doesn’t take long for him to realise that she had butt-dialed him.

He hears the sound of lips against each other and he’s about to hang up when he hears her soft voice, “I’m sorry, Harry.”

“I know,” Harry says.

“You’re a really great guy, and I wish I could do this with you. I wish I was attracted to you, but I’m not.”

“There’s someone else, isn’t there?”

Peter holds his breath.

“There never really was a ‘someone’. But, I’ve loved him ever since I was 16 and I’m trying,” her voice breaks. “I’m trying so hard to move on because I’ll never be enough for him and I know that but I’ve never loved anyone like I love him.”

There’s silence on the other end for a while.

Harry speaks, “He must be really lucky. I’ve never heard you speak like this about anyone.”

“Well, that kinda happens when you’ve been in love with someone for 5 years,” she chuckles.

God, he misses her laugh.

He hears her sigh, “This whole thing was stupid, I’m sorry. All I’ve wanted was for him to want me back and that happened, Harry, but I’ll never be anything serious to him.”

“You should just forget him.”

Peter rolls his eyes at that.

“Don’t you think if I could, I would?”

Peter ends the call.

\---

He calls Ned pretty much the second he hangs up the phone on MJ, not being able to stomach anymore. He feels so guilty for putting her through so much emotional turmoil and it makes him hate himself more than he already does. Since MJ was the one he was hurting, he couldn't turn to her for comfort and the next best thing was well, his best friend. He knows Ned would say the right things to make him feel better-

"You're a fucking idiot you know that?" Ned retorts after Peter tells him what had happened when MJ accidentally called him. Not exactly the reaction he was hoping for.

"Peter, she's still pinning after you, so what the hell are you doing here on the phone with me?"

"I dunno Ned. I don't want to hurt MJ anymore by promising her something I can't give her. And the last time I spoke to her, you should've seen her Ned, she was broken. I did that, I made her feel that way. Seeing her so vulnerable Ned, it was soul crushing, it was worse than any fight with any villain I've ever had. Maybe...it's better if I stay away, give her the space she needs to move on and forget about me. And anyway, I don't think I'm over Gwen, I don't want MJ to play second fiddle to Gwen, she deserves better."

Ned sighs and rubs his forehead. He thinks he might be exactly three seconds away from catching a cab and making his way to his best friend's house to slap the shit out of him for being so oblivious and stupid. But he knows that won't solve anything so he takes a deep breath and explores a less violent route of getting Peter to understand what a giant mistake he's making.

"Peter," he tries to reason. "Do you want me to tell you something? I can tell you right now, as we speak, you are over Gwen, however morbid that sounds."

Peter chuckles, his head dipping slightly.

"Ned, I love you man, but I think I know where my feelings lie."

"Then why did you call me?"

Silence. Ned takes this as a sign to carry on.

"Exactly, dude."

He continues, "You called me because you want my advice so you're gonna listen when I tell you how I know you're over Gwen and very much deeply in love with MJ."

Peter bites his lip and says nothing. The thought of him being in love with MJ was absurd, what happened between them that night on her couch was a mistake, that be known. He loves MJ and misses her very much, so much so he hadn't been able to sleep well or eat properly over the last 4-5 weeks because she was no longer the solid rock he'd gotten so used to resting upon. So yes, he misses her, and he loves her but he is NOT in love with her. This is what he's been telling himself the past few weeks and slowly he's been picking himself up and getting on with things and despite what his heart and Ned tells him or what he heard that night when MJ butt-dialled him, Peter Parker was not in love with Michelle Jones. Everything is just easier that way. Still, he allows Ned to go on.

"Peter, you are in love with MJ because you're being so careful. I've known for over half my life, and in that time, I have learnt you are the most impulsive person I have ever met. You act based on feelings and emotions and take no second thought to consequences or repercussions. It's both a blessing and a curse Peter. If MJ meant nothing to you, you would've been under her before you even think, in a plight to get over Gwen. I'm not saying you would've used her, but you would've convinced yourself there were feelings there and tried to make something out of nothing. But when you care Peter, you take your time and make careful decisions. And this is what you're doing right now. You're over thinking and over contemplating things because you are so in love with Michelle you are worried she could end up like Gwen. She's not Gwen, Peter."

Peter is speechless. Ned's words are the ones he’s been fearing the most and now they’re out there, his feelings bare, his emotions laid plain on the table. It’s as if Ned sees right through him and he hates that because ultimately, everything he had said, was correct.

"Peter, what happened to Gwen could have happened to anyone."

"And it could happen to MJ, Ned. If I'm having a hard time now not being able to speak to her, I would not be able to live with myself knowing I'm the reason her life was cut short."

"Gwen's death wasn't your fault Peter."

"Look, Ned, I gotta go alright? I need think everything through and decide what I'm gonna do."

"You sure you don't want me to come over?"

"Nah, man it's okay. I think I'm gonna go out. Some fresh air could be helpful." He hangs up the phone and sighs loudly, pulling at the strands of his hair exasperatedly. He quickly pushes himself into the Spider-Man suit and jumps through his bedroom window, webbing his way across the city, the mask peeking out of his pocket. The wind beating against his face offers a refreshing feeling he was desperately craving and it feels so damn good. It also does a great job of blowing away the tears from his eyes before they have a chance to hit his red cheeks.

Meanwhile, across town, Ned is spinning his phone in his hand, contemplating whether or not to intervene. He'd watched his two best friends dance around each other all through high school, which had inventivatbly lead Peter to Gwen. MJ's feelings for Peter failed to diminish and on the few occasions he saw her now, he could tell she still loved him very much. Which is why Ned unlocks his phone and navigates his way to his text messages, clicking on MJ's name.

_Peter told me to tell you to meet him at his thinking place._

He's tired of seeing them play this game and if he has to butt their heads together and make them realise what is right beneath their noses then that's what he is willing to do. "He said he has something important to tell you." He finishes. It's 3 minutes and 27 seconds of anxious waiting on Ned's part before he sees the little 3 dots announcing her reply.

**Why couldn't he let me know himself?**

_He was afraid you wouldn’t show if he did. Please MJ, do it for me._

**It's 2 in the morning, Ned.**

_Please._

**You better Venmo me the money for the cab because this is so stupid.**

_Of course._  
Please go easy on him.  
He really misses you.

There's a pause where the notorious speech bubble appears and disappears before finally appearing again.

**I miss him too.**

Ned doesn't respond after that and rolls over, placing his phone on his bedside table and hoping this works.

Michelle steps out into the cold, mid-September air, tugging her flimsy cardigan around her thin frame, silently cursing herself for not dressing warmer. She thanks the cab driver who'd managed to keep her thoughts away from the brown haired boy she is about to face with discussions of the Times Up movement which MJ was more than pleased to contribute to. He nods and tells her to have a good night, before driving away leaving her alone on the street.

Peter hears her voice immediately and almost chokes on his churro. He'd found a late night place which sold them, warm and fresh and he'd bought twenty, ready to eat away his feelings and hopefully feel better. That was until the sound her voice drifted up and smacked him right in the chest.

_HOW ON EARTH IS SHE HERE._

He glances down at the rooftop he's perching on and watches her, shivering impatiently, looking at her watch and rolling her eyes. She lifts her head and her gaze meets his and he forgets how to breathe. The light is hitting MJ along her cheekbones and the glow from the lamp post creates a halo around her. Angelic. That is exactly the word he'd use to describe her. He leaves the bag of churros on the roof and jumps down, landing a little shakily as he stands to face her.

"What are you doing here, Michelle?"

"Ned told me you wanted to see me," she frowns, wrapping her coat tighter around herself.

When she finally puts two and two together, she rolls her eyes and scoffs, "Ned is meddling again. Of course. You'd think he'd learnt something since high school."

"Right," he laughs softly and he sees a glimmer of a smile dance along her lips. Or maybe it's a trick of the light. He makes a mental reminder to thank Ned, just because he got to see her again.

"Look Peter, I'm gonna go okay? This is so stupid. I don't even know why I came-"

"I heard what you said tonight," he blurts, unable to keep it within him anymore.

She looks up from her phone, hands shaking slightly. She’d seen her call to Peter earlier, after Harry had left and she'd almost called him back to make excuses for whatever he had heard.

"I'm not sure what you heard Peter-"

"Michelle, let's not do this anymore. I'm going to bare my feelings and now, you're going to listen to me."

"Peter-"

"I am in love with you Michelle Jones. It took me a while to figure it out, Ned helped, but I know now. I love you with a love like I've never felt before. It's deeper than what I felt for Gwen and it consumes me, wholly and completely. It keeps me up at night and makes me miss you every waking day we're not together. But, Em, we cannot do this."

Her face falls and he pretends he doesn't notice. He can't stop now. If he doesn't finish this, it'll end with his lips on hers, the feel of her skin on his, the song of his name leaving her mouth and saturating his bones and there'd be no going back. He had to end it. For her own good.

"I cannot let what happened to Gwen happen to you Michelle, it would ruin me."

"Fuck, Peter. I'm not her!"

He's so close to her now, he can feel her warm breath on his face and his hand involuntarily reaches up to brush along her cheek. His thumb wipes away a tear and she inhales unsteadily.

"I know MJ. You're not her, but as I was told today, what happened to her could happen to anyone and I'll be damned if it happens to you MJ. Which is why we can't pursue this. I can't risk it."   
Suddenly she is hot, and angry. She pulls his hand away from her face and shoves him.

"What about what I want, Peter?!" Her voice raises with each syllable. "I’ve waited years for you, surely I get a say in this?"

"No Michelle, you don't."

"Fuck you." she snarls, though her voice sounds patchy as she chokes on her own sobs. That's when they hear it. It's so loud, it rings in her ears and makes her unstable on her feet. Peter covers her mouth with his gloved hand and presses her against the alleyway wall, her body trapped between the cold brick and his warm figure. Her eyes widen in fear as her brain registers the sound of the gunshot.

"Stay here, Michelle," he whispers lowly, before pulling his mask over his face.

" _DADDY!!_ "

Across the street, she sees a little girl, pounding on the windows of a car. Peeking around the corner, Michelle spots a middle aged man on the ground, the area around his head glistening with a liquid and she gasps as she realises the man has been shot.

"Hey dude, I'd put the gun down if I were you."

She could hear Peter's voice, reasoning with the guy with the gun, walking towards him slowly. He fires another shot directly at Peter and it misses him narrowly, hitting the glass window of the car the little girl was in with a shattering smash. Michelle couldn't sit back and watch, what on earth would that make her? She preaches everyday about people taking action and fighting for others instead of doing nothing so she does. She runs out of the alleyway towards the car. She manages to manoeuvre the little girl out of the broken window, avoiding the shards of glass and sets her on the ground.

"You're okay, baby," she hugs the girl, trying to console her as her small body shook with tears.

"DADDY!!!" she screams again, tearing herself out of MJ's grip and running towards the man on the ground.

Of course, Peter sees it before Michelle does. He hears it before Michelle does and there's nothing he can do about it. Another shot is fired, and Michelle leaps, pushing the little girl out of the way. She is sent flying across the floor, her knees scraped and bleeding. But she'll be fine. Because the bullet doesn't reach her.

It finds Michelle and buries itself deep in her side.

"MJ!"

And suddenly, it’s like the Instant Kill mode on his suit, is flicked on in his brain. Peter sees red. He sees MJ's blood staining her hands as she clutches her side and screams, falling to the ground. He sees a fiery anger burning just behind his eyes and his mind is clouded and foggy he keeps seeing her blood. On his hands, on his face, everywhere. It's everywhere.

Then he loses it.

Peter charges at the man with the gun, yanking it from his grasp and throwing it across the street. If only he'd done this earlier. If only he'd not tried to reason, MJ would be fine. She wouldn't be bleeding out in front of him and he would still be able to breathe normally.

Ned had told him when Peter cares, he's rational and not impulsive but right now, he's anything BUT.

He punches. And kicks and screams, forcing out his anger at the man who was now unconscious. But he kept going. The gloves of his suit were now stained red for a whole new reason and if it wasn't for the groans of MJ and the whisper of his name, he's pretty sure he would've committed murder.

"Peter!" she cries out and his hand stills around the man's throat. It’s like her voice is a knife. It cuts through his anger and his vengeance and all he sees is her. He gets up, wobbling on his feet as he makes his way to Michelle, blinded by his tears. He holds her in his arms and cries, tearing his mask off his face.

"I told you to stay back, Michelle. I told you to stay," he pushes her hair out of her eyes and sniffles, holding her close.

"And sit back and do nothing? Come on Peter, you know me better than that," she smiles, wincing slightly.

"Karen, how is she?"

"Not good, Peter. I'm figuring out the closest route to the hospital right now. She needs medical attention immediately or she could become critical."

"Oh god, MJ," he sighs, burying his face in her neck.

"We can't leave her, Peter," she whispers.

"What?"

"The little girl, Peter, we can't leave her." It's only then his ears are untuned from just hearing MJ's voice and he feels as though he's just stepped out from under water. Everything is so loud and everything hurts and he hears her.

"Daddy, wake up!" She sobs, shaking the shoulders of the man who'd been shot. "Daddy, please wake UP!"

"We've gotta stay till the cops arrive Peter, we can't leave her."

"But, MJ, you're dying."

"I'll be fine," she draws in a sharp breath and bites her lip.

"Please,” she shakily reaches up to stroke his hair. “We can't leave her."

So they wait, and as soon as Peter hears the echo of sirens, he's up in the air, rushing her to the nearest hospital because he can’t lose her. Not another one. Not again, god, not again,

Not again.

\---

“Come on, Em. We’re almost there, please---“ Peter was choking over his words, the sob waiting in the back of his throat, threatening to spill out.

  
He couldn’t look down at her, he couldn’t physically stomach it, her blood staining his suit was enough of a reminder of the dreadful events that just occurred--- and at his cost.

When he finally reaches the hospital, he quickly snaps his web free and runs in, her laying in his arms as he frantically calls for help.

Within a minute, nurses are running out with a gurney for her to lay on and her eyes start to roll back into her head as he sets her down on the bed.

Fuck. This can’t be happening to him.

He screams, “Help her, please! Please, don’t let her die!”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down. I’m going to need her information. Do you know her name? Did you see her get shot? How did you find her?”

It was only then that he realises he’s in the suit. Fuck.

He quickly tries to compose himself even though he feels like his chest is sinking even deeper into his body as he stutters out, “M-Michelle Jones. She said her name was Michelle Jones and she was s-shot in her side abdomen when I was trying to stop the shooter. The ambulance wasn’t fast enough so I decided to bring her in myself.”

He had to pretend she was a civilian he didn’t know. He sees the nurse write everything down and quickly leaves, not being questioned further since he is supposed to be the friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man.

But he returns minutes later as Peter Parker, and rushes to the nurse he previously spoke to.

“Jones?! Michelle Jones? Where is she?” he rambles, his voice choked up. The nurse looks up at him, almost startled and questionably, how did he get here so fast?

Peter senses her confusion and quickly says, “I saw her get shot, she was out with me. Please, I need to see her.”

The nurse seemed to relax at that and sighed at the young boy, “She’s in surgery, kid. We don’t know how long she’ll be but if there are any updates I’ll let you know. What is your affiliation with her?” she asks.

The first word that comes to mind is boyfriend, but he thinks about the stupid hospital rule where only family are allowed to see the patient and blurts out, “Fiance. I’m her fiance. We’re getting married.”

He refuses to think about how natural it sounds and how right it sounds, rolling off his tongue. Not here, not like this. This is not how he wants to come terms with his feelings. The nurse gives him an apologetic smile as she guides him to the waiting room.

Ned arrives shortly after, tears streaming down his face and saying an abundant amount of apologies to Peter, “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, I’m the one who told her to meet you. Peter, I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean-“

Peter hugs him to shut him up. “It’s not your fault, dude,” he whispers into Ned’s shoulder.

Ned doesn’t say anything after that, they both just hold each other and cry. As the hours pass, the waiting room fills with MJ's family, some friends, and even May who’s currently holding Peter as he sobs into her chest. No one says anything to each other, all holding their breaths and waiting for something, anything. Only sounds of crying and soft chatter among nurses could be heard, but Peter doesn’t care about any of it.

He keeps replaying the look in her eyes when he admitted he was in love with her. The way they gleamed with hope and longing. And then he thinks about the way her eyes looked when she got shot. She just had to go and save that little girl.

Of course she did, she’s MJ. And that’s one of the things he loves about her. He loves about her.

Loves.

His heart shatters more with every passing second and he holds on to May because he can’t rely on his legs.

He’s so stupid. How could he have not been with her? How could he have not known he was in love with her?

But that’s the thing. He kind of always did. She was always MJ. He always found himself waiting for her witty replies and sarcastic comments and chased the scent of her hair and found himself stopping by bookstores whenever he had free time to see if he could find a book she hadn’t read (he usually couldn’t) and he only truly ever slept when she was next to him and watching movies with her made them look so much better and listening to her talk or rant about the most recent women's rights movement made his Friday nights and learning to make vegetarian food even though he hates it, just because he knows she is and-

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he mumbles and May looks started by his outburst.

“Peter why would you say that?”

But before he could answer, they hear a, “Michelle Jones?”

Peter's never gotten up so fast in his life, despite not being able to fully stand yet. He holds his breath as the doctor looks around the room at all the heads turned his way with a calming smile, “She’s awake.”

Peter feels like he’s just taken his first breath of air after drowning for hours. Those words set him into another fit of sobs— sobs of relief as he hugs May and Ned.

Everyone took their turns visiting her, her parents went first of course and Peter was offered to go next, being her so called fiancé, which earned him some questioning looks, but he declines. Ned gives him a look but he just shakes his head. Ned doesn’t question him any further as he leaves with May close in tow.

Peter watches as the waiting room empties out, her friends and family who have visited all leaving looking relieved and that eases something in Peter. He stays, by himself and alone with his thoughts.

When May and Ned finally walk out, he looks at them as they exchange a glance with each other, they were the last to see her. Ned had to head home and May had work in the afternoon so she offered to drop him off.

“She wants to see you,” is all May says as she gingerly places a kiss to Peter’s cheek.

They leave after that, and Peter bites his lip, contemplating whether to leave or go in. He doesn’t really need to make a decision because his decision is already made for him as he takes a step toward the nurse at the reception desk and hoarsely asks, “Michelle Jones please.”

The walk down the hospital hallway is the longest walk of Peter's life, and the most nerve wrecking thing he’s ever had to face. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say, but as he awkwardly stands outside room 251, gaining weird looks from doctors and nurses alike, he bites the inside of his cheek and pushes the doors open.

“Ah, I was hoping I’d get to meet my fiancé sometime today,” she jokes, her voice is dry and raspy.

Peter stands by the door staring down at her. Her hair’s a hell of a mess, her eyes are droopy and she has wires stuck in her. She’s in one of those god awful hospital gowns and her right side has been wrapped.

And yet, he still thinks she looks breathtaking. Of course he does, he’s fucking in love with her. And he knows that now.

Peter feels the tears running down his cheeks and opens his mouth to say something, but his words are lost at the back of his throat. So, he just just stands there.

That is, until MJ slowly lifts her hand for him to take and he quickly rushes to her bedside and holds it, the contact making him cry harder. And then, he doesn’t hold back anymore.

“I’m so sorry, MJ. I’m so fucking sorry. This is all my fault and I‘m sorry. I love you so much, I’m so sorry. It should be me. It should be—“

MJ reaches up slowly to rub her forehead, “Peter, can you just— wait, did you just say you love me?”

“I love you. I’m in love with you. And I always have been. I'm just an idiot who couldn’t realize sooner and I don’t want to be away from you any longer. If you don’t completely hate me, then let me make it up to you for all these years and let me show you how much I love you. I’ll always love you because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I can’t lose you, MJ. I need you in my life because you’re what makes this life worth living.”

He takes a deep breath, not realising he hasn’t taken one the entire time he spoke. It’s silent in the room until he hears her speak.

“Jesus Christ. I can’t believe this.”

Oh fuck.

She sounds exasperated. She sounds tired and fed up and he’s already mentally preparing himself for never seeing her again and-

“I can’t believe you single-handedly turned my life into a fucking rom-com.”

She quirkes a smile and Peter laughs through his tears.

“But you know,” she shrugs, her eyes drifting across the room and landing on him again. “It’s worth it if it means I get to have you as my love interest.”

He smiles a big, toothy grin and she laughs, rolling her eyes, “Are you gonna kiss me or do I have to keep talking-“

He leans forward, finally pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that’s a century late, but offers a lifetime of possibility.


End file.
